Test
by daniel.harris.3760
Summary: ASDF


_The failures of lesser men prey upon the stability of the Imperium; it is only those who possess great intelligence, courage, and strength of arms that can truly defend the realms of men from all that seek to destroy and annihilate humanity from the galaxy._

**0600 Hours Imperial Time**

A sleek room with several holo-displays along the wall glowed a soft gold against the brass plated walls, displaying moving lines of status reports and datacode. An array of weapons and tech devices rested upon a desk beside several large and dilapidated books.

A man in well-tailored Commissarial garb sat upon a leather chair and tapped on a bright holo-screen atop the desk in front of him. Reports and documents on events within the sector appeared. A small severed Tyranid tendril from Hive Fleet Behemoth had invaded several planets and had caused devastation within the outer sector. Uninterested in the minutiae of diplomatic news, he opened and scanned a military scouting document relating events on a small desert planet.

Holo-records and witnesses reported Necrons rising upon the desert world of Ashe, a valuable planet laden with promethium and metal deposits. Mining facilities had gone silent over the past few weeks, and drilling teams had gone missing. Probabilistic analysis leaned toward one particular conclusion: Ashe was a Necron Tomb World, home to a great and powerful Necron armada. Other theories were possible, but the Necron Tomb World theory was by far the simplest and, as a result, more likely to be correct. There was great utility value in claiming the planetary resources, but he knew there was a far greater prize to be collected.

Colonel-Commissar and Lord Inquisitor Alexander Albrecht stood and sipped from a stein of bitter recaf, looking out of his office window to the vast vacuum of space. The Necrons possessed technology far superior to that of the Imperium of Man: it was quite likely that humanity had possessed tech of similar magnitude in the Golden Era, but that was a time long gone; a history forgotten or lost by all but the most diligent of historians. Records of this time period did exist, however, and Alexander collected such information with an interest bordering upon obsession.

Necron technology could be collected broken down, understood, and adapted to suit the purposes of the Imperium. Techpriests could not be relied upon to pursue such tasks, in their superstition and dogma they cannot seek to innovate or learn. The Emperor himself was a Scientist and a Super-Rationalist, and Alexander had learned a great deal from Golden Age records and documents on the subject of the Imperial Truth; some even written by the Emperor himself. Inspired by years of studying these texts, he had sought to utilize these xenos technologies in service of the Imperium and ultimately return humanity to a new era of singular technological and galactic superiority.

Alexander walked toward the center of the room and projected a three-dimensional image of the planet with data points indicating attacks and disappearances. His program plotted relations between data points and constructed a probability density for various possible Tomb World entrances on the image. He tapped a few keypresses into his electro-screen bracer and spoke with a deep voice of authority.

"Relay these orders: I want the XI Scouting Company and a squadron of mechanized LRs ready to deploy in two hours. Position the Ragnarok three-thousand kilometers from the surface of Ashe, approximately thirty degrees parallel to its axis of rotation and perpendicular to the plane of orbit of its moon. These forces will be deployed at Coordinates Negative 60 latitude and 40 degrees longitude. Their orders are to entrench, erect a communication outpost, and scout their respective quadrants for signs of Necron Tomb Gateways. I will have any news and intelligence on the Necron excursion relayed directly to me immediately."

* * *

**0950 Hours Imperial Time**

Alexander was modifying his personal Force Field projector in the Ragnarok's Tech Lab when the ship's on-board interface program informed him of his Lieutenant's arrival. The heavy sealed doors slid open to reveal a well-built man in Inquisitorial robes of black and gold.

"Lord Albrecht, we have received communications from the communication outpost. I saw fit to deliver these to you effective immediately."

He slid the reports onto a nearby workbench. A quick read indicated all that was necessary to glean. Incoming reports had indicated an Eldar attack: the communications outpost had been swiftly overrun and survivors had been taken prisoner.

"I am simply ecstatic that my mind was not cracked open to deliver this time," Alexander barked in return. "Perhaps I will construct a helmet that blocks Psyonic communication. The Emperor himself knows it would look as fashionable as a doorknob on my head, but keeping you out would certainly be worth the cost."

Leon furrowed his brow in irritation. "With your leave, my Lord." He was given a slight nod, and Leon left to pursue his duties. What a sullen fellow; mayhaps he could use a vacation of some sort. He would refuse intently, of course. Inquisitor Leon trained in his martial arts every day. His combat skills were indispensable and well worth every moment of dealing with his bitter melancholy. He also possessed a mind of sharp bearing, not as strong as Alexander's himself, but greater than a good deal of his fellow Inquisitorial brethren.

All in all, the probability of Eldar getting involved with the discovery of a Tomb World was not quite unlikely, he thought. It did mean, however, that this game was about to get quite a bit more difficult. Unlike the savage directness of the lesser species, the Eldar were skilled at deception and cunning; they struck quickly much as a viper would towards its prey. They had traded the element of surprise, though, and now the Lord Inquisitor knew of their presence.


End file.
